Mr. L and Flamethrower rushed to the Mayor's skyscraper as soon as they heard the news of two villains threatening to do something ridiculous. Mr. L never really paid much attention to villain threats anymore, so he didn't pick up on many details. Everyone seemed to want the same thing: to take over the city. To have power. 

"I'm here at the scene with Flamethrower and his sidekick Mr. L, as we watch a pair of villains try to break into the Mayor's office," the reporter, a girl with auburn hair and an orange blazer, reported, holding a microphone up as Flamethrower and Mr. L looked up at the massive skyscraper. "Mr. L, any words for how you plan to handle this?"

She held the mic up to him, but he remained silent. He simply turned his head away, keeping his eyes away from her or the camera.

Now, Luigi would have never been so cold, but he wasn't being Luigi at that moment. 

"Why would the Greedy Gamblers bother breaking into her penthouse?" Flamethrower muttered under his breath, just quiet enough for Mr. L to hear. "It's not their style-"

"Mr. L, for months now our viewers have been wondering about your powers. Care to share?" the reporter asked next, shoving the microphone back into his face.

Mr. L scrunched up his nose slightly and pushed the microphone away while Flamethrower rolled his eyes.

"We're working here, Daisy," Flamethrower mumbled while Mr. L ignored her, trying to figure out a way to the top of the tower. They could seemingly just use the stairs like regular people, but that wouldn't be wise, because in order to get to the roof where the villains were, they would have to open the hatch at the top, which would give the two villains the opportunity to slip inside. 

Mr. L silently wondered how they even made it up there in the first place. 

"I'll call Peach," Flamethrower breathed. "We can use a chopper."

Luigi nodded, having forgotten all about helicopters. It always paid to have a rich friend. 

A chopper had arrived with the blonde in the pilot seat a few short moments later. Yes, she was running for mayor in the upcoming election, but for the time being she worked with law enforcement and had access to practically anything she could ever need in situations like this. She didn't have a secret identity or anything, so when she worked, she worked as herself. For years, she and Pauline had been basically going back and forth between being mayor. 

In order to keep his identity secret, Mario had a separate phone to use whenever he called her for help as Flamethrower, so even she didn't know it was him. The only person who knew Flamethrower's identity was Luigi. 

Mr. L and Flamethrower quickly hopped in and allowed her to fly them up to the top of the skyscraper. Instead of landing, they rolled out a rope ladder so Peach wouldn't have to run the risk of stepping into the fight. Flamethrower went first, as always, and Mr. L closely followed until they landed on the rooftop.

Mr. L drew back slightly when he realized that the villains were two completely new people. One was incredibly tall. He wore a white tophat, a long white cloak that faded to blue toward the bottom, and a large monocle. The lower half of his face was covered by his cloak, so only his eyes were visible. 

He would have looked much more villainous if he wore black instead of white, but oh well. 

The other one was significantly shorter and dressed like a jester. His (Or her. Or their. Mr. L didn't want to assume their gender,) face was covered by a mask. One half was black, the other was white. It was definitely one of the better villain costumes he had seen. 

"Who are you?" Flamethrower demanded while lowering his chin slightly and giving his best glare. 

"Who are you?!" the taller man asked in return. His voice was steady and strong. Mr. L wasn't quite prepared for it. 

"Flamethrower," Flamethrower answered. "And this is Mr. L."

Mr. L didn't wave. 

"Count Bleck," the tall man answered, placing a hand on his chest and bowing his head in a similar manner to how Luigi introduced himself to Henri earlier that day, although he seemed far less awkward. Mr. L was jealous. "And this is Dimentio."

Dang it, those were some pretty cool names. Mr. L wondered how long it took the pair to come up with them. Perhaps they used some kind of supervillain name generator. It was certainly better than "The Greedy Gamblers." Seriously, was that the BEST those two thieves could come up with?

"Well, what are you doing? I hate to break it to you, but you're not exactly supposed to be up here-" Flamethrower started, when Count Bleck waved his hand, making a large staff with a glowing blue gem appear in his hand. He waved it, and a large dark mass appeared above him. Despite it being a black color, it seemed to glow. Mr. L didn't see how that made any sense at all, but he stopped questioning trivial things like that long ago. 

He had never seen any powers like that, though. Bowser had his firey breath, The Phantom could fly and phase through walls, but he had never seen anything like this. The concept of facing something so mysterious and different made these two seem all the more dangerous, and Mr. L didn't even know what Dimentio was capable of yet. The jester had still yet to even speak! He was sorta just... there. Just like Mr. L.

"We're taking the city, of course," Count Bleck answered. His eyes, which seemed to glow a reddish-orange color, narrowed slightly.

Flamethrower held his right hand up and made a dark red flame appear in his hand, bouncing between his fingertips. "Get ready, Mr. L," he warned. "I have a feeling this is going to be a long night."

Mr. L had the same feeling, when a purple projectile suddenly flew past him, inches from his own face. He flinched slightly and slid to the side, then looked at Dimentio, who was holding up his left hand. 

Ah, so they were both capable of this weird magic. This would surely make for an interesting battle. Mr. L had never fought two people at once, besides the Greedy Gamblers, but neither of them had any real powers so that didn't really count. He used to fear the day The Phantom and Bowser teamed up because the only edge Flamethrower and himself ever had over villains was the fact that they outnumbered them. Here, the numbers were even.

Mr. L had to fix that.

He charged for Dimentio, hoping to take him down quickly so Flamethrower could focus on Count Bleck, when the jester stepped to the side, making Mr. L nearly trip over the edge. The only thing that stopped him from falling to his doom was Dimentio's grip on the back of his green bandana, which was starting to choke him. 

"My, my, my, Mr. L," Dimentio seemed to tease. "So quick to attack. So slow to think things through."

Mr. L waited for him to let go. He wanted him to let go because the fabric pressing against his neck was really starting to hurt. 

Below, he could see the usual crowd of bystanders forming at the base of the tower. The group of people who treated these dangerous battles like some kind of TV show, made for their viewing pleasure. Mr. L always felt slightly annoyed when these masses of people would gather, because to him it wasn't a simple game. It wasn't a show. It was real life. If he squinted his eyes, he could see that reporter and her cameras angled up at him. He was too far to hear them, but he was certain that they were talking about him. 

Dimentio pulled him back and threw him onto the ground. A wave of shock ran up from Mr. L's wrists where he caught himself and throughout his body, reaching his head and mind last. He narrowed his eyes, then silently looked up at the jester.

He closed his right fist but didn't say a word. Unlike Flamethrower, Mr. L hardly ever spoke on missions like this one. Despite what Dimentio said, he did actually tend to stay quiet and think things through before acting. However, sometimes the most logical thing to do would be to act quickly. He wasn't trying to be stupid, he just knew he needed to act quickly at that particular batt;e because he didn't exactly know who these people were or what they were capable of. When it came to fighting the usual villains, he could allow himself more time to think because he knew their patterns and personalities. Bower was slow and impulsive, The Phantom was slick and manipulative, and the Greedy Gamblers were just that, greedy. 

Mr. L turned his head slightly, spotting Flamethrower, who had engaged in a movie-worthy fight scene. He was sending various expert fire attacks toward Count Bleck. Attacks that he had spent years training and perfecting. However, Count Bleck somehow could dodge and block them all, using his staff. He too, looked as if he had been training for this very scene for years. 

"Ah, so we have a fire boy," Dimentio said, leaning over Mr. L and grinning a slightly sinister grin. "What makes you special, Mr. L?"

Mr. L turned his attention back to the jester and grit his teeth. He clenched his fists and quickly scrambled to his feet, taking a chance and trying to throw a punch toward the jester's mask. He knew the importance of secret identities. He didn't want to expose Dimentio by any means, but if he could fracture the mask, then Dimentio would be as good as defeated for the night. 

Things weren't so easy, though, because Dimentio stepped aside before Mr. L's fist could even make contact. 

"Punching?" Dimentio asked. "Seems a bit dull for a superhero, don't you think?"

Mr. L clenched his fists and swung yet again. He had practiced fighting with his fists for years, so the fact that he wasn't able to land a single blow was slightly discouraging. 

"Not speaking, hmm?" Dimentio teased. 

Mr. L shook his head no. He wasn't going to give Dimentio the satisfaction. He was going to stay focused. 

"Oh, how mysterious," Dimentio laughed. His laugh sounded too genuine to be real. It was like the kind of laugh someone would see in the movies. Scripted. Practiced. "A mysterious hero with mysterious powers. If you do even have powers..."

Mr. L felt his shoulders grow slightly tense, but he wasn't going to let Dimentio get to him. Honestly, this was nothing compared to The Phantom, who seemed to make it his mission to get into Mr. L's head whenever they met. It was one of the things Mr. L hated most about that particular villain. 

"Mr. L! Watch out!" Flamethrower's voice warned when a dark mass flew past him. A stinging sensation buzzed in his right ear and he felt a strange throbbing feeling. 

He looked to his left to see Count Bleck, standing tall with another dark projectile ready to be fired. Flamethrower stood opposite of him, holding his own flame. 

"Stand down," Count Bleck demanded. "Or your sidekick dies."

Mr. L sighed. This happened all too often. 

"You wouldn't," Flamethrower hissed.

Mr. L knew better. These were villains. 

"He's powerless," Dimentio laughed, crossing his arms and standing back as if getting out of the way and giving his partner a clear shot. "It would be easy to do."

"Shut up," Flamethrower hissed. "Even villains wouldn't stoop as low as murder."

Again, Mr. L knew better. Villains stooped that low all the time.

"Oh, won't we?" Count Bleck asked.

Then it happened.

It was all too quick. 

First, there was a blanket of black that seemed to cover Mr. L's eyes, then there was heat. Lots of heat, starting from his ear and spreading throughout his head, and eventually to the rest of his body. 

There was a loud ringing and Flamethrower screamed. 

It hurt. It never ceased to amaze him how much it could hurt. The pain shocked him to the core, he wished he could just make it stop. He longed for a second of relief.

It didn't stop, though. Some would think that when dying, the pain would disappear once the life faded, but it didn't. 

It stuck with him.